


World on Fire

by Winterstar



Series: The Kent Rogers Cycle [6]
Category: DCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, M/M, pre-Civil War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4791014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Clark navigate the hazards of being together while the world only wants to burn them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Supercap fandom. I am planning on a multi-chapter story. We'll get some fluff as we start out - I want to explore their relationship a bit and learn how to write Clark. I hope I do him justice (pun intended). There will also be plot and of course, hot, hot, hot stuff!

“It's not going to work, is it?”

He feels arms enwrap him, encompass him. The weight against his back, he welcomes like the sun against his face. These arms, this man embracing him is the sun to him. He thrives on the energy from the sun, it gives him power, helps him become who he is. But what is he, who is he?

These people, his people, call him a god, accuse him of being a devil. He only thinks of himself as one of them. He is not a Christ figure, a messiah. He came here because of the will of a far away father and mother. He cannot grasp who they really were, he may know them from a database, and the computer’s generation of images, but the truth remains what he knows is these people. Earth is his home, he is not a god.

“Clark.” The word is whispered like a lullaby murmured into his ear. He wants nothing more than to forget. But these clothes, this symbol on his chest, doesn't allow him to forget. He was sent here as a hope, a flung wish to preserve a people and to bring continuity to his lost world. He tried for integration; Zod tried for extermination. Neither, it seems, works. 

“I don't think we can do this,” Clark says and he hates the words. 

The hands, covered in fingerless gloves, brush down his chest, touching the ridges of the symbol of hope emblazoned on his chest. “You made me believe we could, Clark.”

He can no longer deny his need and he turns to look at Steve, to truly hold him. He touches his forehead to Steve’s and there's a certain security there. Something he's never truly felt before, not even in the arms of his mother as a child. “It's getting worse, they’re calling for my head.”

“After Ultron, we need for the world to settle down. Too many people died. Let’s see what Stark can do.”

“After Metropolis and Ultron, people aren't going to sit quietly back and look at us as some kind of cartoon superheroes. They see us as dangerous,” Clark says and steps out of Steve's embrace. Maybe everyone is right. How can he continue to justify acting on his own? 

“There's always damages, I'm not casting them aside. I'm not saying the lives lost are inconsequential. We’re working for the greater good, something loftier, a broader goal. But who do you trust to regulate and guide us? To make those goals? Because I've seen that before, I worked for my greatest enemy and never knew it.” Steve's eyes are fierce, lightning and fire. “I’m not certain I can trust anyone’s judgement but my own.”

Clark looks up at the ceiling, they are in Steve’s suite at the new Avengers facility. While Clark is not a regular, and is no means a member of the Avengers, he is tolerated. He thinks the others look the other way because it is their leader who has decreed Clark aka Superman is invited. Most of the time, he doesn’t see welcome in their eyes. 

“Come on, let’s get out of these ridiculous clothes, go out to eat. I know a little place in town,” Steve says and uses that charming, disarming smile where he bobs his head down and looks up through half lidded eyes.

It ruins Clark every time. “Sure, okay, I’m good with that.”

Steve clasps his hand and drags Clark to the bedroom of his suite. It hasn’t been the best of days. Clark spent most of the last week listening to the newsroom spout horrible things about himself when they weren’t condemning the Avengers. Even now, the television in Steve’s room plays the news where they debate who will have the final say over the Avengers, who will be able to control someone with Superman’s powers.

One of the news anchors suggests that Superman should be supervised by the Avengers. It catches both Steve’s and Clark’s attention as they shed their clothes.

“Don’t you think, the Avengers with their powers and their skillset could supervise Superman?”

The pundits or experts they have on the screen – there are two – one an older white man and another an Asian woman. The woman huffs and says, “Superman is akin to a god, what could the Avengers possibly do? He can laser them with his eyes. I say the best thing to do is to call out the Batman.”

“Batman retired years ago, no one has seen him in over a decade. We need to put together a committee of all the worlds’ powers and supervise not only this alien from another planet, but the Avengers.” The old man – her counterpoint on the news show – says. “We have a problem where aliens like this Superman and Thor – who even calls himself a god – shouldn’t be allowed on the home planet. We need to get them off the planet.”

“Don’t you think calling in the Avengers or even calling out to Batman could help the situation?” the news anchor asks.

The two experts – in what field their expertise lies Clark cannot tell – continue to debate back and forth, speaking over one another so that it is impossible to tell what they are concluding. Steve shakes his head, grabs the remote from the side table, and clicks off the television.

“It’s all anyone talks about,” Clark says.

“Thor never calls himself a god, that’s his brother. And from what I understand Loki is dead,” Steve says and dons a pair of jeans that nicely emphasize his slim waist. He finds a t-shirt as Clark digs through his side of the closet. It should be a happy thing that Clark has roots in Steve’s world. He wonders if he should. 

“It doesn’t matter, people will think what they want, Steve. I want to be there with you. I can’t see you go into dangerous situations and stand aside But people are scared.”

“Of what they don’t understand. We talked about this, and I agree, but right now the world has to come to some understanding,” Steve says. “If someone like Zod or Chitauri come at us again, the Avengers are the best we have. Stark cannot encircle the globe with armor, he’s even scaled back on the Iron Legion because of Ultron. That way is not going to work.”

Clark tugs on his t-shirt. “And do you think it’s a good idea to just let the world decide? Just let everyone else decide our fate?”

Steve grabs his leather jacket from the chair where he tossed it, and rummages in the side table’s drawer to find his keys. “No, I don’t. You know that. We talked with Stark.”

“You said that he’s interested in some kind of oversight.”

“And he knows my position on that, I have to trust Tony. He knows more now, he knows you’re in the picture. He’ll be there for us,” Steve says. “Now, are we going out for pizza or not?”

Clark frowns and then Steve jiggles his keys. Shaking his head, he says, “I’ll give you a ride, we don’t need the bike.”

“We’re going into town, Clark, I don’t think two guys dropping down from a flight would be a good way to introduce you to the world as Superman, do you?” Steve says.

Clark tries to snatch the keys out of Steve’s grasps, but misses. “Okay, let’s go.”

They fit well together. Clark’s brawn is perfectly balanced by Steve’s slender waist and legs.  
Clark likes the feel of Steve close to him, he seems to slot into position so easily. Steve hops on the bike and Clark follows, spooning up behind Steve, curling his arms around his waist. They don’t put on helmets, although the law in New York state is clear. Neither of them worry about it. It will take about thirty minutes or so to get to the town, the Avengers’ complex in Upstate New York is defended, but not hidden. Clark worries about the openness of the complex. 

They whiz down the country roads, leaning into the curve of the road and letting the cool autumn breeze hit them. Clark notches his chin on Steve’s shoulder, feeling the groove of the road and the warmth of the body beneath him as if it is his own heartbeat. He enjoys and releases the tensions of worry, and concern. He has to believe that Stark will find a way out of this mess.

As they approach the town, the wail of a siren startles Clark and he sits up from riding the bike with Steve, nearly throwing them off balance. Steve quickly corrects but starts to slow down. The siren comes from a police car following them and Clark rolls his eyes. Steve brings the bike to the edge of the road, they are no more than a quarter of a kilometer outside of town. Steve puts his boots on the ground and holds the bike up as Clark follows suit. The police officer walks up them, he has a pad in his hand.

“Officer?” Steve says, and he’s doing his best Steve Rogers – I’m innocent- face. Clark wonders what it must have looked like when the man was a 90 pound weakling. If it worked then, because it surely isn’t working now. The officer looks tired and exasperated.

“You know the law in this state?” The police officer says.

“Yes, yes I do. I’ve lived here most of my life, sir,” Steve says. “Except for the war, and a brief time in DC. And then there’s the ic-.”

The officer isn’t listening and isn’t deferring to Steve’s obvious identity. He’s scribbling on the pad. “Then you know, you and your passenger are required to wear helmets.”

“Yes, sir, but that’s really not necessary,” Steve says and turns back to Clark. The light dawns in his eyes – Clark’s identity is unknown.

The cop lifts an eyebrow at Clark and then turns back to Steve. “Doesn’t matter how big a guy is, he falls from a motorcycle, he’s what we call the transplant list to see who the lucky recipient is. Understand, Captain?”

Steve bows his head, cowed by the fact the man knows him and isn’t having any of his shit. Clark bites back his grin. 

The officer hands Steve a ticket after he writes it up. “Now, I’m calling a towing company or you’re parking your bike over there in the empty lot then you’re going to go and buy two helmets. Understand? There’s a Walmart on the way into town.”

“Yes sir,” Steve says and thanks the man when he gives him a ticket. 

Steve rolls the bike to the empty lot, and stares at it long and hard before he turns back to Clark, who cannot hold back his laughter anymore. Thank god the officer left them in peace once he was assured that Steve would follow his directions.

“Stop, just stop,” Steve says. 

Clark hangs an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “And you expect these people to figure out how to deal with superhumans and aliens?”

“He’s just doing his job,” Steve mutters.

“So are we,” Clark says. He doesn’t add that anytime they do their job the world goes on fire.

**Author's Note:**

> Are you in the teeny tiny fandom of Supercap? If so, tell me what you'd like to see - give me some pointers on the DCCU and I'll write more of this for the Supercap fandom.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://winterstar95.tumblr.com)


End file.
